Death By Sunken Treasure (A Hayden Kent Mystery Book 2) by Kait Carson

stayed locked on my face. The silence hung on for a long moment. When it became uncomfortable, I asked, “Why are you so sure he committed suicide?”
    He drummed his fingers on the folder. “What we discussed over the phone. The circumstances of his last weeks. From all accounts, he was spiraling into a depression, cutting ties with loved ones. Cutting them out of his will.” He slid the folder over to me. “It’s all in there.”
    I picked up the folder and slid the paper out. I estimated the report to be about fifteen pages of single-spaced typing. Each page was watermarked with the word “Preliminary.” I flipped through until I came to the conclusion: Death by suicide. Status: Pending additional reports. “Are you working on this with the detectives?”
    “Yes.” He looked down at his patent leather regulation duty shoes then lifted his face to mine. “We hope you’ll cooperate with us and share information, if necessary.”
    I opened my mouth to reply, but he continued, “We have evidence supporting our conclusions. You have the luxury of insight.” His fingers drummed once on the desk. “There are open questions that we anticipate the toxicology screen will answer. Those questions interest the detectives. Do you know anything?”
    Thoughts clicked one after each blossoming into a new thought from a new point of view, like the morphing images on YouTube. “No. I knew he was in pain. I didn’t know more than that.” What good would sharing Mallory’s information do now? He was right. Any drugs Mike took would be in the tox report. “Wait. There is one thing, two maybe. I found a note on my car, and got an email with an imbedded scan. The note said Mike committed suicide. The email told me to stop looking into it.”
    “Send us copies.”
    My shoulders hunched in a shrug. “Sure. Why give me this report if it’s not final?”
    “Investigation can change our perception of some things. But not the fact that your client’s air valve was shut off.”
    That was a body blow. Was this in the ME’s report? I kicked myself for not reading it carefully before I came. No way Mike descended to over one hundred feet with his air off. He had to shut it off underwater. Why? Unable to think of a single thing to say, I stood.
    He walked around the desk and escorted me to the front of the building.
    “Are you a swimmer?” I asked.
    He shook his head. “Not much.”
    “Then you can’t imagine how hard your body fights against drowning. It’s not an easy death.” Especially if your life support is in easy reach. I shuddered at the thought, and walked into the lobby.

      
    Torn between wanting to rush home and read the report and not wanting to know the exact contents, I placed the report on the passenger seat. Janice had suggested murder. Nothing Deputy Diego said agreed with that. A million thoughts whirred in my head. Janice had sent me a text while I waited for Deputy Diego, cancelling our proposed get-together. She was caught up in an investigation and was working late. I needed a change of venue. The time readout on the car display was five fifteen. I punched the button to place a call and said Mallory’s name. Two rings later, she answered her cell.
    “Hey, just on my way out. What’s up? Want to go for a run?”
    I heard the whoosh of papers fluttering and the soft clunk of a stapler as she spoke; she was clearing her desk for the weekend. I pictured her office, the floor-to-ceiling windows streaming in light over the bright watercolors displayed on her walls. Mallory had a knack for making herself at home.
    “Nope, no run. I’m thinking the sun is over the yardarm, and a Friday night libation is in order.”
    A throaty laugh reverberated around the cabin of the car. “When the heck did you start talking like a pirate? If you’re suggesting a drink, count me in.”
    “Bad day?”
    “Nah, but ready to par-tay.”
    We chatted a few more minutes. I persuaded her to meet me at The